


The Lies We Tell

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, M/M, Surprisingly Non-Graphic Given Source Materials, Technically Not Cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:17:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this world there were humans and there were ghouls. Given that ghouls live on human flesh, it should be easy to consider the two as belonging to different worlds, ones that clash and cannot co-exist.</p><p>So what if a human finds out he's in love with a ghoul? What happens then?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lies We Tell

**Author's Note:**

> True Fact: I have a horrible penchant for crossovers. Any time I consume a new canon, I start thinking about crossovers. Most of them don't get written though.

_"--outwardly, ghouls don't look any different from a normal human. The only time you can easily tell someone is a ghoul is when they feed or fight. During those times, their eyes turn red--"_

Malik turns another page in his book, mostly tuning out the interview playing on the television in a corner of the cafe as he continues to read. 

There's a chime from his phone and Malik reaches over to pick it up. There was a message from Kadar.

_hows the date?_

He considered ignoring it but knowing his brother, it would only lead to a flurry of texts. As if to confirm that thought, his phone chimed again.

_malik_

_dont ignore me! ):_

Malik rolled his eyes, marked his page and set his book down to type a reply.

_he's not even here yet_

And Malik had more he wanted to say including but not limited to things like, 'why are you even texting me?' and 'are you really that bored?' or 'why am I even dating this guy?' maybe even 'for that matter, why am I even asking you?' when the bell on the door chimed. Malik sends a quick 'g2g' to Kadar before putting his phone down. He picks up his book again and purposefully didn't look up at whoever just came in, not even when there's a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey." Altair says, as if the word were an appropriate replacement for a proper apology.

Malik only spares him a brief glance out of the corner of his eyes before turning back to his book.

"You're late." He says simply.

"Sorry." Because Altair has known Malik long enough to know it was just easier to apologize than argue. Well, he knows it most of the time. (Things tended to escalate quickly when he forgot.) His hand slides from Malik's shoulder, over his back and cupped the side of his neck. His thumb traces idle circles on the skin there, "I got caught up in something."

"You always do." But there's no bite in his voice and with Malik what he said was never as important as how he said it. He pushes Altair's hand away with a frown, because public displays of affection were embarrassing, "stop that."

Altair complies and walks around the table to drop down on the chair accross from Malik with a grin. Malik huffs, but marks his page again and replaces the book in his bag as the waitress comes over to take Altair's order.

In the background, the interview on the TV continued.

_"--other tells include not eating or not liking any sort of human food. Ghouls can't stand the taste of normal food, you see. Being monsters, the only thing they can consume is human flesh--"_

"One black coffee. Do you want anything else?"

"No."

As the waitress walks away, Malik gives Altair a look Kadar was more than familiar with. It was an expression that said that the likelyhood of a lecture was high. "You can't just live on coffee, Altair."

Altair shrugs, "I'm not hungry."

They continue to make small talk over coffee and a sandwich Malik offers Altair half of but doesn't insist he take. If the idiot wanted to go hungry that was his problem. The waitress stops by their table to see if they wanted more coffee halfway through a story Altair was telling about some asshole from work. He finishes his sentence, but holds onto the rest of the story because Altair, like Malik, is a private person, even if Malik is more sociable. (It is a survival skill that Altair has never bothered with.) She pours them coffee and Malik thanks her. She doesn't leave right away though and glances at the tv as the interview finishes, pursing her lips.

"How scary. To think that there are monsters like that in this world."

"It's not like some humans are any better." Altair comments once she's left.

Malik takes a sip of his coffee (black, simply because he can't imagine drinking coffee with anything else in it) and sets it back on the saucer with a faint 'clink'. "Except usually humans don't feed on other humans."

~ + ~

They go to watch a movie afterwards before they go their separate ways for the evening, because Malik still has things to do later. He starts to leave then thinks better of it and turns back.

"Don't stay out so late. It hasn't been very safe lately."

And Altair snorts as if the very idea was laughable.

"What," He says and wraps an arm around Malik's waist and pulls him close, "afraid I'm going to be eaten by a ghoul?" Because there have been rumours a ghoul being active in the area for a while, one that wears a white robe and hood that the CCG has labelled as the Assassin because of the way its never seen making its kill. In fact, no one's ever been close enough to see what sort of mask it wears.

Malik, looking wholly unamused, mercilessly presses his knuckles to Altair's side and twists it hard enough to make Altair wince.

"Don't even joke about that." He deadpans while pushing away, "just go home before it gets too late, you idiot."

"Yes, mother."

~ + ~

The truth is usually Altair didn't get home very late. This is because the night life didn't hold much appeal for Altair. He'd rather just go to sleep on the days when he can't drag Malik back to the apartment with him to spend the night.

His cousin who had recently moved to town just got a job as a bartender, however, and that demanded celebration (because Altair has a soft spot for Desmond and because he wanted to see for himself what his work place was like).

So it's already midnight by the time Altair's on his way back to his apartment, still relatively sober if only because he'd nursed the same beer all evening.

Oddly enough, despite what happens afterwards, he didn't feel the least bit unsettled. There was absolutely no indication that his life was about to change tonight.

It would have been nice to have some sort of warning.

As it was, it had seemed like a perfectly normal evening up until the moment Altair heard a blood curdling scream coming from an alley nearby. Altair stops in his tracks and the scream is followerd by the slap of foosteps on pavement and the metallic crash of a trash can being knocked over, before a man stumbled out of the alley, swearing loudly. He's barely taken five steps out into the street, before a figure in white followed after him.

Altair did a lot of running and he'd been in track when he was in high school, but he's never seen someone move that fast. One moment, it was just the man, and then there was a blur of white and the man is dragged back against the body of his assailant with an arm around his throat. He didn't even have time to scream before there's a sharp crack as his neck is broken.

Altair hears the man's body hit the ground, but his eyes are fixed on the person (was it a person? Humans can't move that fast, can they?) who suddenly looks up as if sensing his presence.

He's wearing a white mask that covers the top half of his face that looks like a stylized owl. Even from this distance, Altair can see that his eyes are a bright, bright red.

_Afraid I'm going to be eaten by a ghoul?_

Malik was going to kill him when he found out. It's an absurd thought, but this was an absurd situation and it was easier to think about that than the fact that what was happening. Altair's heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest, but he felt oddly calm as he stared into the red eyes of the ghoul. Would it be less painful to fight or to run? It was likely impossible given how fast the ghoul had moved earlier and how he'd broken that guy's neck like he was nothing but a toy, but 'giving up' was not in Altair's vocabulary.

It surprises him when the ghoul only crouches down to sling the dead body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and runs back into the alley they came out of. Altair chases after him after a beat, recognizes that the decision is more impulsive than sensible but doing it anyway.

The view in the alley is clear all the way to the street at the other end of it. There's an overturned garbage bin and a fire escape on one side that no one should be able to reach from the ground.

There isn't a single person in sight.

~ + ~

Altair wonders sometimes how Malik seems to always know when he's done something he'd promised not to do. It's like the man had a second sense for these things because as soon as he got home he got a text asking if he was back yet. Apparently Malik had called his apartment and no one had picked up. 

"What if something had happened, you idiot?"

And Altair had kept silent because Malik has always been able to see through his lies.

There's a sigh on the other end of the line.

"You need to be more careful, Altair." Unexpectedly, Malik just drops the subject and tells Altair that he'll be running a bit late today. In retrospect, that should have raised som warning flags but Altair had been too relieved to wonder about it at the time.

~ + ~

Because, as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours, Altair never even makes it to where they'd agreed to meet.

Instead, he'd run into a group of men who'd hadn't asked him to go with them so much as dragged him into an alley and applied chloroform.

When he wakes up again, his hands are tied behind his back and he's lying on a cold concrete floor. A quick look around told him he's in some sort of warehouse full of the sort of people who were street thugs and liked dressing to match their life's calling.

One of them grinned at him in a way that was probably supposed to be intimidating...and very well may have been if Altair were the sort to be easily intimidated.

"Look who's finally awake!" The man began jovially and didn't waste a moment before kicking Altair, "So good of you to join us."

Altair curled his bdoy against the blow but made no noise except a nearly inaudible grunt. He glares at the man.

"Who are you?"

"That should be my question." The man crouched beside him with something ugly in his expression, "Or, more importantly, who was your friend? The one from last night...you know. The one who fucking killed Roger."

Altair didn't know who Roger was though he had a guess.

"I don't know who you're talking about."

And for that, the man stands up and kicks him again, making him wince.

"Don't play dumb with me kid! Someone saw you there that night and the bastard left you alive. He was a ghoul. Those things are fucking mindless killing machines, why would it have left you alive if you guys weren't buddies, eh?"

And Altair had no answers because he doesn't even know himself, but when the man crouches again he spits in his face.

The man wipes the spit off with his hand. Altair gets to enjoy this small act of defiance, but it's short lived when the man pulls Altair's phone from his breast pocket holds it casually.

"A friend of yours tried to contact you earlier. Said you were late or something." And there is only one person that could be because he hasn't made plans with anyone else and something like dread and anger courses through him in equal measures. "Me an the boys figured we should invite him over to see you--"

Suddenly there's an odd sound. Like metal bending. It was faint and, at first, Altair wasn't sure he'd actually heard it. Then there's another, louder this time, of metal scraping against metal, coming from the direction of the door. The man pauses, then gestures at one of the men closest to the exit. The thug goes to it and raps against it.

"What's goin' on out there? Hey!"

But there's no reply and when he tried the door it wouldn't budge. He banged on it and continued calling out the people outside while some people tried to laugh it off.

"Probably went to take a smoke. Lazy assholes."

And people laughed along in that way people who are incredibly uneasy do.

Then there's an odd sound that echoes in the warehouse. Something that sounds suspiciously like footsteps on the large metal roof and its deafening in the sudden silence. Altair turns his head as best he can and it's easy enough to track the sound as whatever is making it moves across the roof. It's an old building, this warehouse, still solid enough but left to rust and fall into disrepair as the years went by. One of the metal panels that makes up the roof is missing and the sound stops close to it. From his vantage point, Altair could barely make out a form standing at the edge of the hole, cast in shadow by the sun at its back.

Altair watches the shadow shift, then it--he jumps in and a man dressed in a dark jacket and slacks lands in the middle of the warehouse near where Altair is. No one moves and, for a split second of time, it's like no one even _breathes_ during which Altair can't help but think that, that back was familiar.

All too soon, though, there's shouting and gunshot as the whole world jerks into motion because the man turns and Altair has not even a second to place the white mask from last night before he's grabbed and hauled away.

He grimaces when he's dropped onto the ground none-too-gently but sits up and bares his teeth at the one who threw him there. A hand reaches out faster than he could see and shoves his head back down against the ground. There are bullet holes on the wall to their side where his head would have been. A short stack of crates was the only cover afforded them, and what a sorry thing it was. They're in a corner, at least, so they are safe from two sides at least. Little good that will do them. Altair can hear the shouts of men from around them, but he snarls at the man--ghoul (at the mask, really) holding him down.

The hand on the side of his head tightens briefly, a wordless warning, maybe, before the pressure is gone and the Assassin leaps over the crates.

Altair can't see over the crates, not unless he wanted to risk having a bullet put in his head by sitting up.

It only helped a little.

The violence started close enough that at first Altair could still see the top half of the Assassin over the top of the crates. At that point the sounds of fighting were terrifying, but the sounds of shouting, swearing and gunshot was nothing compared to what happnened when they started to scream.

They had been shounting before, of course they had been, but the quality changed when the ghoul darted away and out of Altair's sight, followed by a wet crunch that Altair could not and did not want to identify. That had been the turning point even if a few men still shouted in anger and swore vengeance (but there was still an undeniable layer of fear under all that), but they became increasingly few.

Shouts disolved to screams and then to crying then to banging on the doors or walls or anything. Mingled with it were gunshots and the click-click-click of an emptied chamber as more and more of them cried and begged for mercy, and the wet squelch of what could only be a messy death.

It made Altair wish he could close his ears like he could his eyes.

But that was impossible and even when he shut his eyes the cacophony only continued. On and on and on until there was only one voice left.

Then even that one was silence.

The last scream seems to linger in the air even long after it faded to silence again. Altair grits his teeth against the feeling of nausea brought on by the heavy, metallic smell of blood and gunpower in the air and struggles to sit up, because the footsteps are heading back in his direction and he isn't going to lie there and just _die_. When the ghoul comes into sight again, Altair had already managed to get onto his feet. In retrospect, throwing himself at the thing that had just killed a warehouse of men armed to the teeth probably wasn't the wisest idea, but there is little point in running in this situation.

So he relied on anger instead, because there was nothing else.

He's surprised then, when the ghoul doesn't dodge or kill him on the spot and, instead, catches him by the shoulders in a move that surprises them both. Altair barely has any time to consider this development before the ghoul turns his head and, abruptly, turns them bodily around so that he has Altair pinned against the wall just as a sharp crack of gunshot rang out.

The ghoul's turned around to look behind and Altair also angled his head to look over his shoulder. A man sat on the other side, hand still held out even as the gun hit the ground. His mouth opened and closed but no words made it out, his eyes were glassy and unfocused.

There was a chunk about the size of his head ripped out of his side that made it obvious the man didn't have long to live.

The sight makes Altair's stomach turn and he looks away from the sight. Only then noticed the hand behind his head, cradling it so it didn't hit the wall. He notices something else as well and at first he can't quite process what he's seeing. There's a line of white on the ghoul's otherwise black jacket. It's partly died red by an errant blood splatter, but it's still obviously a design stitched into the shoulder in white thread.

(Malik had looked on in disapproval at the state of his jacket.

He shook his head and dropped the jacket in his lap.

"You're hopeless." He pulled out a needle and gave the thread in the box a critical look, "I'm not even sure I can save this.")

But it had been a gift from his grandmother so he'd wanted to keep it. And Malik had grumbled and complained but had managed to salvage it.

He stares, throat suddenly dry. It can't be...

"...Malik?"

This close, it's impossible to not notice the way the ghoul stiffens right before he backs away and that speaks volumes.

It's impossible, but at the same time he remembers that one moment when he could have sworn he recognized the sillouette standing over him, and _look_ his mind supplies with something close to hysteria, because the mask doesn't cover the bottom half of his face and Altair could recognize what little he could see.

The body covering his steps back and Altair doesn't dare look towards the macabre scene in the background.

Neither of them move for a beat and then Malik sighs (and it's a sound Altair has heard a thousand times and yet its familiarity brought no comfort).

"Let's get out of here first. You can ask your questions later."

~ + ~

Earlier, Malik had sent a text to Altair when he failed to show up at their agreed upon meeting place. The reply he got after a pause was off, to say the least. For one thing, no matter how often Altair was late, he'd never actually forgotten where they were meeting. So he's not surprised at all when he's jumped by three men not too long after he'd replied. 

He'd let them herd him into an alley, away from prying eyes, but it was for his benefit and not theirs. It wasn't long after that that Malik had had a man pinned to the wall of an empty alley while two others bled out on the pavement a few meters away. The man clawed at the hand closed tightly around his throat though he couldn't manage to leave a single mark.

"I will only ask this once." Malik says mildly, not needing to sound particularly threatening when his eyes are the colour of blood even as his grip loosened enough to allow his victim to breathe, "What have you done with Altair?"

Malik has never been human, but in some ways, humans and ghouls weren't that different.

The man was terrified. And for good reason seeing as Malik had pulled his accomplice's arm off with his bare hands right after he'd smashed another's head against the wall hard enough that it caved in. It was a show of power because people can be driven by greed, loyalty and fear. Greed is no contender in the face of mortal terror, neither is loyalty in the weak-willed and cowards. And nothing invokes fear quite like a ghoul's face stained in human blood. It was messier than Malik normally preferred, but he could only choose the most efficient route when Altair's safety was on the line.

The man was still grasping uselessly at Malik's arm and wrist and hands as he gasped, "Th-the docks. In one of the w-warehouse."

"Which one?" Malik's hand tightened and the man whimpered.

"I-I don't--"

He cries out when Malik digs his fingers into his neck, drawing blood. "Which. One."

"Four! H-he's in warehouse four! Oh god." He pulled at Malik's hand, but it was as futile as rolling a boulder uphill. "Fuck! He's in warehouse four! I swear it! Oh, god. Let me go! I don't want to die!"

He was crying now and Malik wrinkled his nose when he caught the sour scent of human waste. Damn it. There were times when Malik wished ghouls didn't have an enhanced sense of smell.

"One more question." He said and doesn't promise anything. It was too late for both of them when they saw his face. He couldn't risk them going to the CCG Headquarters and bringing this information to the ghoul investigators. "Where is your phone?"

The man swallowed. "R-right pocket."

Malik nodded and reached for the pocket with the hand that wasn't occupied. "Passcode?"

"D-don't have one."

Idiot, Malik thought and unlocked the phone. He went through the messages in it before sending one off.

_got him_  
 _you still at warehouse 4?_

A moment later he got a reply. Malik looked it over before pocketing the phone. He would have to dispose of it later.

"Thank you for your cooperation." He said before he snapped the man's neck and let him slump the the ground. He studied the bodies in the alley for a moment. He'd have to leave them like this. It wasn't how he preferred to do things: it was too flashy and more likely to catch the attention of the CCG than he'd like.

But he didn't really have a choice.

He wiped at the blood on his faace with his thumb, dragging it horizontally until it came to his mouth. He licked the blood off and made a face.

Damn, but he really hated the way smokers tasted.

He wiped the blood on his jacket (it was probably ruined, but such was life) and considered his options. He looked down at his clothes. He'd worn dark colours, but the shirt under his jacket was only dark grey and the blood stains were obvious on it. He looked up at the roof even as he pulled the white owl mask from a hidden compartment in his messenger bag.

The roofs it was then.

It wouldn't be until later that he'd remember whom the jacket he'd just ruined belonged to.

~ + ~

Malik leads them away from the warehouse and further out towards the dock. This place hadn't really been in use for years, so Malik isn't particularly worried that someone will see them. He takes them out onto the water anyway, making sure to stand with his own back to the water so that Altair has a clear path back to land.

He pulls the mask off, when he reaches the end of the dock and turns back around expectantly.

Altair, who had been silent up until this point, crosses his arms.

"When were you planning to tell me?"

"If it were up to me? Never."

Malik thinks, maybe, he should be apologizing. But what good is an apology in the face of years and years of lies? And what good is an apology if he would still choose to lie even if he could choose again.

Any apology he could give would be worth nothing, he knows this with a sinking sort of certainty. But he'd always known, hadn't he? That this day would come. (He just hoped it would come a bit later.)

The least he could do was to be as honest as he could now.

Altair doesn't seem to really appreciate it from the way he's glaring.

"So, what? You were going to just keep lying to me? Fuck, Malik..." He drags a hand over his face in frustration. "Is Kadar also...?"

"Yes." And it takes no effort at all for his eyes to shift to red again, because he loves Altair, more than he should, but he swore to protect his brother no matter what, "if you try to turn us in, I will kill you."

Altair doesn't flinch or back down (he wonders if Altair realizes it is a promise Malik probably wouldn't be able to go through with as well).

"Is that what you think I'll do?" He asks, angry and hurt and Malik watches him for a moment before letting his eyes fade back to their usual dark colour.

"I don't know."

Then Malik pushes past Altair and doesn't want to think about what he feels about the fact that Altair noticeably stiffens when he passes by or the fact that he doesn't chase after him.

~ + ~

Kadar hears the door open and close and looks at the time on the bottom corner of his laptop screen. Weird. Malik didn't usually come back so early on date nights...

He stands up from his desk and pushes the door to his room open, and freezes. He can easily pick out Malik's familiar scent, but over top of that was the sweet, coppery smell of human blood that made Kadar swallow reflexively. He's not exactly hungry: it would be another month before he'd need to feed again, but it doesn't stop him from taking another whiff of it.

He steps out into the hall fully. Malik was leaning against the front door with his eyes shut. The blood stains themsleves don't bother Kadar, but it has been a long time since either of them had made a messy kill.

"...what happened?"

Malik doesn't startle, having already heard his brother come out. He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling looking resigned and more than a little lost. His voice is dull, when he speaks.

"Altair knows."

Those two words explain a lot, actually. Not, everything, but Kadar grew up with Malik so he can sort of figure out the rest.

"I'm sure he'll come around."

Malik shakes his head and bends over to remove his shoes. "Much as I appreciate your optimism, Kadar, it's not that simple."

"This _is_ Altair we're talking about, right?" Because Kadar has also known Altair for a long time and he knows the story of how he started out crushing on Malik in high-school and never quite stopped. "I don't think you're going to get rid of him that easily."

Malik snorts and privately thinks that while that had been true in the past, that was before Altair knew he was a monster.

~ + ~

They temporarily move of their apartment and into another Malik had bought years ago under a different name. It's a precaution he takes not because he doesn't trust Altair but because Malik cannot risk Kadar's safety even if the chance of anything happening is slim.

He tells their previous landlady that they're moving to be closer to an old family friend who has trouble taking care of herself and could use a couple of extra faces in the area. She has known them for years and always pats Malik on the arm when she says goodbye and always bakes them cookies that they end up having to eat to keep up appearances only to throw them back up when they get back into the apartment. She buys the lie easily enough and makes them promise to visit. Moving is simple and relatively uneventful because over the years they have learnt how to be social enough that no one will bother you or really remember your prescence except in passing.

Malik's work is something he could do from home so it's easy enough to find time to go out and check and see if there would be any more complications. Kadar offers to follow Altair and Malik hesitates before nodding because he wanted Kadar to be able to have a normal life but he cannot be in two places at once.

"It's fine. No one checks for attendance in university, anyway."

In the end, that extra precaution proved to be unnecessary. Altair never goes to the CCG and no one goes after him. The men Malik wiped out were only a small subsection of a local gang, unimportant enough that very few of their higher ups wanted to risk hunting the one responsible down, not after seeing the scene Malik left behind. He'd made sure everyone who saw it would know nothing human had killed those people. It meant risking the CCG getting involved, but it was a risk Malik had to take.

He breathes a little easier though, when he checks the local CCG bulletin board and sees that his ruse worked. There is only the old information sheet about the Assassin and another asking for information about the ghoul responsible for the massacre at the pier. The CCG hasn't made a connection between the unrefined and almost over-the-top butchering with his and Kadar's usual method of hunting.

He continues to tail a few members from the gang, just to be sure, but it appears that they either don't know about Altair's involvement or thought him dead. Either way, it suited Malik just fine.

During this time, he chanced upon a funeral for some of the men who died. At one of them was a woman and child that Malik recognized because their photo was used as the lock screen wallpaper on the phone Malik had taken in the alley. The smiling wife has become a mourning widow as she holds her child who is still to young to understand why her father wasn't coming back. Later, Malik looks the man up in a phonebook and mails the phone back to his family without a return address after ensuring there were no fingerprints left behind. It was a poor substitute and an even poorer apology, but it is the best Malik can offer.

~ + ~

Kadar gives him little updates about what Altair is doing even though Malik never asks. Malik continues to ignore him until Kadar finally just asks, "Is it really okay for you not to talk to him?"

"It's for the best." Is the only response he got.

He understands that part of it is selfish. Because Malik has always guarded his heart carefully. Because trusting humans isn't something a ghoul could afford to do. There are simply too many stories about neighbours and friends and lovers turning on people when they realize what they are. Even without the reward offered to people who turn in ghouls to the CCG, there is still that fear many humans hold towards ghouls.

Most of them don't even consider them human.

And Kadar knows Malik would rather never talk to Altair again than to learn that Altair was one of those people. For Malik, it would be preferable to break his own heart than to allow another to do the honours.

But that's only a small part of it. Because Malik has never been the sort of person to sacrifice someone else for something as petty as that.

Kadar knows his brother best so it's easy to see that he's doing this as much to keep Altair safe as it is to keep them both safe. Harbouring a ghoul is illegal, after all, and Malik has never been quiet about his opinions on Altair and his tendency to just jump into things without considering the consequences. He knows Malik is only trying to protect them.

But Malik doesn't seem to realize how miserable he looked. It was probably due to a number of things but intentionally distancing himself from the person he loves probably didn't help. He also didn't spend the past week watching Altair become increasingly frustrated when he couldn't find even a trace of the Al-Sayf brothers. (Well, mostly it was just from not being able to find Malik. He'd probably only gone looking for Kadar because he was out of other options.)

Kadar watches as Altair hunches forward on a park bench, his cellphone pressed to his ear as he waited and waited and waited. You could always tell the moment it went to voicemail. His shoulders hunched further and his expression turned down. He always left a message, sometimes angry and hotheaded, and other times pleading if equally angry. Malik didn't listen to any of them and doesn't block Altair's number, instead choosing to wait until Altair gave up on his own in a move that is so purely masochistic that makes Kadar worry.

"Damn it, Malik..." He started off soft and almost defeated before all at once his expression tightened and, with a snarl, he hurled his phone away. It skidded across the pavement and was stopped by Kadar's foot. Altair didn't see him pick it up because he'd buried his face in his hands and swore. Kadar bent at the waist and picked it back up.

"My brother's being an idiot."

And if he had any doubts before, the surprise and naked hope in Altair's eyes would have been enough to dispell them.

In the end, the choice doesn't belong to Malik alone because he's not the only one who hated to see the people he cared about being hurt.

~ + ~

Malik sits in the kitchen nursing a mug of coffee.

It's probably about time the surveilance stopped. No one else knows the person who was involved with this whole mess was Altair. Most of them seem to be under the impression that whoever had been captured had died in that warehouse. So there's no longer anything to gain by continuing and Kadar would need to go back to university soon before he missed too much.

He'll have to start seriously considering what to do afterwards.

He shakes his head and let's out a quiet 'tch'.

It should not be so hard to imagine a life without Altair. There'd been more than a decade's worth of time when they hadn't even known each other existed, and when they did meet Altair had been nothing but a thorn in his side from day one. They had fought from the first moment they'd met and never quite stopped even when they slowly got closer. Malik still remembers the moment he'd realized Altair was the closest thing to a friend he had besides Kadar. He'd been horrified and perplexed because he hadn't even decided it. At some point he'd gotten used to meeting up with Altair during lunch and afterschool, he'd gotten used to Altair's stupid face to greet him in homeroom and was disappointed when he wasn't there. That was when he'd realized it, but by the time he was staring stupidly at the empty space Altair-should-have-been-but-wasn't it had already happened and there was no longer any turning back.

Not that Malik hadn't tried anyway. That had ended in a mess of screaming and fighting that Malik had promised himself he would never indulge in except in extreme circumstances. He came to the conclusion after that that having Altair in his life was bad for his convictions and common-sense. But he couldn't quite bring himself to try again when Altair looked at him with an expression that had looked so betrayed as he spat angry questions like, 'what the hell is wrong with you?' at Malik.

Until now, that is.

A loud rapping pulled Malik out of his thoughts. It stopped for a moment before whoever was on the other side of the door started knocking again. Malik pushes the chair back and stands up. Kadar has his own set of keys, so it can't be him. Anyway, Kadar knows better than to cause a disturbance like this. Malik hadn't told anyone else their current address, so he's understandably wary...

...he really shouldn't have bothered.

"Malik! I know you're in there!" The familiar voice is followed by more pounding and Malik gapes for half a second before he wrenches the door open.

"What do you think you're doing?" He didn't yell out of consideration for the neighbours but he wanted very badly to do it. And to shake Altair while he was at it. "You're bothering the neighbours, you idiot!"

Altair's hand hovered in the air, halfway through the motion of knocking and stared for a moment, before frowning.

"Then let me in." He made a subtle gesture with his eyes as he dropped his arm and Malik knows he's asking for discretion.

...of all people, Altair is the last person suitable for suggesting that.

Malik steps back though and allows him to step through the door before shutting it behind him.

"How did you find this place?"

"Kadar told me." Of course he did. He and his brother were going to have a talk, Malik decides. "Why were you avoiding me?"

"Not everything I do is because of you." Because it's ture (even if it's a bit of a lie this time). "I was making sure there wouldn't be any loose ends to tie up this time." They could go on like this for a long while yet, but Malik isn't in the mood to play "Twenty Questions" today (or any day) so he cuts right to the chase, "What are you doing here?"

Altair doesn't know. Oh, he'd thought about it, imagined finding Malik and yelling at him so often that he's already refined everything he wanted to say and memorized the words.

(You left. You lied to me for years and then you just left without explaining anything. Did you think I wouldn't notice you were gone? Did you think I wouldn't care? Or did you think I'd rat you and your brother out? Did you think I would betray you? I thought you knew me better than that. Or was that also a lie?)

He'd been prepared to say those words, every last one of them. Had been itching to say them more and more starting from the moment when he'd come to Malik's apartment and was told the brothers had left.

(I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd never see you again. I thought you hated me.)

And now that he's here none of them seemed right.

Altair steps forward until there's only an arms' length between them and then takes another step. This time, Malik is the one who stiffens, as if expecting a blow but not moving back inspite of it.

"I'm not afraid of you." Altair says and doesn't know if it's the right thing only that it makes Malik's breath catch and eyes widen in surprise before narrowing again. 

"You should be." Malik brings a hand up, settles it over Altair's throat and presses lightly so that his fingers create indents but doesn't cause discomfort. His eyes flash red. "I could kill you."

"But you won't." That knowledge made even the red eyes of a ghoul an oddity more than a threat. Malik is the one to flinch and take a step back when Altair reaches back and brushes his face with his fingertips.

"Altair--"

"You won't." Altair affirms again while stepping into Malik's space until his back hits the wall. It's not a new position for them, but the realization that Malik could tear off a man's limb barehanded and yet allows Altair to crowd into his space time and time again with only a bit of token grumbling makes it different. Malik's eyes are still the colour of blood and that's different too.

But it's still _Malik_ and Altair can't help but reach out and cup his cheek, brushing the area under his eye up to the corner of it. When Malik wrinkles his nose at the action, he can't help the relief that crashes into him all at once. There's something about the warmth of Malik's skin, about the way he doesn't turn away from Altair's touch that's different from just seeing him. Altair leans in as if he's being drawn in, to kiss, to touch or maybe to just breathe in Malik's scent--

(You're here. I love you. Don't leave.)

\--he's thwarted when Malik just shoves his hand in his face to push him back. He is mindful not to accidentally stab Altair in the eye, but otherwise gives very little consideration to his comfort.

"Do you even know what you're doing? I'm a _ghoul_ , Altair!" His words are hissed, but no less vehement for all that Malik keeps his volume low. Altair ducks the hand on his face and Malik takes it as an invitation to grab him by his front instead. "I eat _human flesh_ , and I get it by killing people. The only reason I'm not a murderer is because, according to the law, I'm nothing but _vermin_."

Because Malik couldn't change this about himself even if he wanted to. Because he can't stop eating just because Altair loves him. (And he hates Altair for this. Because Malik had never wished to be human no matter how hard things were, not until Altair had pushed and pushed until he made a place for himself in Malik's heart.) In a moment, caught between self-loathing and bitterness, Malik honestly considers just throwing Altair out the door.

Altair's eyes flashed and his hands closed over Malik's and sqeezed hard enough that it hurt.

"You're not vermin." He said it so furiously and with such conviction and that was not at all what Malik was expecting. Before he could gather his bearings again, Altair throws another surprise at him, "And you never kill anyone who hasn't done something to deserve it."

It's not a question and Malik remembers belatedly that Kadar had told him about Altair's frequent trips to the library during the last week. The CCG liked to keep important or sensitive documents out of circulation, but there are more than enough books on ghouls and articles about ghoul attacks available to the public.

Altair always was a fast reader.

When they were in school, Altair had preferred to avoid socializing, wasn't good at talking and was athletic. Many people put all that together and assumed that meant he was stupid. (Malik had taken one look at him and hated him for the way he could act like that without ever worrying that one day someone would look at him and suspect him of being anything other than human.) That was far from the truth though.

And enough of their victims had been identified that somone could find a pattern if they looked.

He stares for long moment before closing his eyes and lets his head thump back against the wall. Atlair must know by now that he's breaking the law by not turning Kadar and him in. _And he's still here._ Malik isn't sure if he wants to kiss the damn fool or shake him. His eyes are their usual dark colour when he opens them again. "...don't make me out to be some hero." The grip he has on Altair's shirt loosens even though he can't drop them with Altair still clinging to him.

It occurs to Malik belatedly, that maybe it had been cruel of him to just leave without saying anything. He wasn't quite ready to admit that though, not out loud at any rate.

He tries to make one last appeal.

"The CCG--"

Altair cuts him off.

"Fuck the CCG."

And Malik just laughs. He shouldn't, because there's nothing even remotely funny about any of this and Altair clearly takes offense to it with the way he glares, but Malik can't help it, doesn't want to _stop_ , because having Altair this close has always done strange things to him, because with his heightened sense of smell Altair's scent is heady and distracting in a way that has long since stopped being just because of actual hunger. His hands curl over the fabric of Altair's shirt and pulls him in for a kiss hard enough and sudden enough that Altair all but stumbles into him.

It should not be hard to imagine a life without Altair. Malik has a whole list of reasons for why that is and, logically, it all makes sense.

Logic has very little to do with the way he angles his head to deepen the kiss, or the way he drags Altair closer so they're flush against each other. It has nothing to do with why he'd gone to save Altair despite the risks. Or why he'd ever said yes to a relationship at all. It has nothing to do with the way he arches into Altair's touch or the times he lets Altair into his apartment despite the incriminating evidence in the back of their fridge because the idiot hadn't checked the weather report and turned up at Malik's apartment soaking wet.

Every reason in this world for why he didn't need Altair seemed superficial and stupid when Altair kisses him, slow and languid or hard and demanding and Malik would fight tooth-and-nail anyone who tried to take this from him.

They're both out of breath when they break apart. Altair tugs at Malik's collar with an impatiant sound and bites at the column of his neck despite how Malik always pushes him back by his forehead whenever he does that. It is a familiar taunt because Malik hates biting and being marked and Altair sometimes pretends to forget because he likes the way Malik looks when he's annoyed and flushed and breathless. He stops when Malik tips his head back with a groan and makes no move to push him away at all.

Malik's eyes open to a slit and he looks down at Altair like he was stupid, "...what?"

"I thought you didn't like biting."

Malik lets out an annoyed huff because he didn't want to have this conversation right now. He buried his hand in Altair's hair and tugged pointedly.

"I lied. You can't possibly be surprised by that at this point."

"Why?"

"...is that really important?" But he could tell Altair wouldn't be satisfied without an answer so he sighed. "Ghouls heal faster than humans in general, but I heal even faster than other ghouls. It would have been a problem if the marks you left were gone the next day."

Altair paused to consider Malik's words, going through the information he'd learnt about the different types of ghouls for a split second before chuckling, breath ghosting over Malik's skin.

"How long will it last?"

"...it'll probably be gone by morning."

"Hm."

Malik glares down at him. "That's not an invitation to leave marks all over my body."

Altair leans in to nip at the soft skin on his neck and makes no promises.

~ + ~

Later, Malik is craning his neck to frown at the numerous mouth-shaped bruises along his back that Altair had felt necessary to leave. He turns back to the culprit who is, in his opinion, looking far too pleased with himself.

"...why do I even put up with you?" He asks, sounding more fond than he'd intended to as Altair pulls him back down.

"Because no one else will put up with you." Altair quips back before placing a quick kiss on his lips, then adds, "Besides, you weren't complaining before."

To which Malik only huffs and lies down without another word. Altair (that ass), will probably take his silence as agreement, but even so he's not about to deign to answer.

"Malik?" Altair asks, sounding uncharacteristically sombre and Malik looks up to indicate that he's listening, "Promise me something."

And Malik pauses before answering, "What sort of promise?"

Altair rolls over so that he's hovering over Malik, with a hand making an indent in the matress beside his head.

"Promise me there will be no more lies between us."

"Altair, I can't." Malik brings a hand up to cup the side of his face, "There are things I can't tell you--"

"Then don't." He leans into the touch easily and Malik has to wonder at that. He's never imagined Altair would be able to do that while knowing what Malik was. "Keep your secrets, but don't lie to me about them."

Malik thinks, _have you even thought this through?_

But what he says is, "All right."

**Author's Note:**

> I figured Altair should get the chance to be the squishy human in a story for once.
> 
> Also, I think when doing crossovers like this, the story should really adopt the atmosphere and themes of the universe the characters are placed into. Which is why I felt a lot more comfortable that I was doing something right when Malik pulled someone's arm off (I wrote the scene in the warehouse last).


End file.
